14. The Blood is Home
There was no overriding reason for me to have headed to Texas directly, except that I felt an unhealthy attraction to return to my town, Kingsville, and let the scenes formerly familiar to turn into some sort of self-flagellation.
Notwithstanding the many years gone by, the loss of my family remained an infinite abyss in my mind, and not even my own monster-fication allayed the guilt storm. In moments of cold meditation I found it inconceivable that something so trite as the simple demise of three individuals could have such a deep importance for me. Didn't I have a whole eternity before me? Had I not been bequeathed the whole world?
Maybe the reality of their absence in my life had been the herald of something that I had not wanted to accept during all those years, but that I had divined regardless: Day after day, and even second after second, every bit of my being will go missing, until all that remains will be the thirst.
The search for those millennial vampires would perhaps fill many of the years to come; but, meanwhile, I could not avoid that pilgrimage of homesicklessness.
Although the Cayo del Grullo spreads almost all the way into the Navy base at Kingsville, I landed at Loyola Beach, about half way up the cay. Even though it was about twenty miles away from Kingsville, I thought it prudent to skirt the base, so I started walking north down highway 77. At those early hours of the morning, there hardly was any traffic, and I could let myself slide underneath that lunatic concatenation of memories that accosted me at every step…
That's how I returned to my starting point, finally, to face the bitter news that Kingsville played host to vampires again.
Damn everything to hell.
There was no overriding reason for me to have headed to Texas directly, except that I felt an unhealthy attraction to return to my town, Kingsville, and let the scenes formerly familiar to turn into some sort of self-flagellation.
Notwithstanding the many years gone by, the loss of my family remained an infinite abyss in my mind, and not even my own monster-fication allayed the guilt storm. In moments of cold meditation I found it inconceivable that something so trite as the simple demise of three individuals could have such a deep importance for me. Didn't I have a whole eternity before me? Had I not been bequeathed the whole world?
Maybe the reality of their absence in my life had been the herald of something that I had not wanted to accept during all those years, but that I had divined regardless: Day after day, and even second after second, every bit of my being will go missing, until all that remains will be the thirst.
The search for those millennial vampires would perhaps fill many of the years to come; but, meanwhile, I could not avoid that pilgrimage of homesicklessness.
Although the Cayo del Grullo spreads almost all the way into the Navy base at Kingsville, I landed at Loyola Beach, about half way up the cay. Even though it was about twenty miles away from Kingsville, I thought it prudent to skirt the base, so I started walking north down highway 77. At those early hours of the morning, there hardly was any traffic, and I could let myself slide underneath that lunatic concatenation of memories that accosted me at every step…
That's how I returned to my starting point, finally, to face the bitter news that Kingsville played host to vampires again.
Damn everything to hell.
To Be Continued…
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